Page 43 of Intimately Faithful

Every avenue of Aoife’s heart started to thud and then it pounded and then it was making so much noise it was all she could hear.

Moaning, she concentrated only on the feel of his capable tongue tangling with hers and the cup of his strong palm on the side of her face. He overwhelmed her in an instant—his warmth, the honest marvel in his groan as if he couldn’t believe how good their kiss felt either, or the way she reacted to him all accumulated in her clawing to get even closer to him.

Danny held the side of her head, governing how deep he went, how slow and frantic their mouths moved. He was feral with every grunt. This dexterous side to him had always driven her completely mad with need. Sometimes he did it on purpose, just kiss her for hours and tell her to bepatient.

Right now, she’d kiss him for days and not complain once, because it was heavenly.

Heat flamed her cheeks and she had to force herself to not wantonly rub against him, though it was more than evident how hard his body reacted to their wet, fused kisses.

She was titan tall with her head in the clouds because he was turned on.

“Danny, please. I need you.” She moaned into his lips that were prying hers wider, and her heart answered his unspoken demand with heavy thumps.

“You’re worse than any drug,” he breathed in hot puffs on her mouth, taking small nips and licks. His eyes so dark and wild she nearly came.

Aoife wouldn’t allow guilt to fester in her brain.

Not when his kiss felt like he’d given her the world.

Right when she would have pressed their mouths together again and strung her fingers into his soft locks, there was a yowl from upstairs and then another, louder this time as Misha told them that she was awake and not happy at all by the lack of attention she was receiving.

Danny sighed into her lips. He recovered first by pulling his head away.

Aoife was less steady. Her body had been ready to be taken and she found it hard to redirect her thoughts to anything other than how good he felt with his hands all over her.

“Saved by the bell,” she joked without humor and slid off his lap. “Can we…”

“Go check on Misha and get some rest, Aoife. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Deflated, he’d already brought down the shutters over his eyes masking what he was really feeling, even if the sight of his aroused body contradicted his denial.

For those few short, delicious minutes, her Danny Murphy reacted to her just like he once had. With abandoned lust andwant.

Taking the stairs, she knew one thing.

Hope was there now.

And she’d work her behind off to get him to realize their kind of love wasn’t lost, just dormant and she was ready to wake it up.

TEN

“Blue balls shouldn’t even be in my vocabulary.” – Danny

Over the next few days it was as though Aoife waged a silent war against him to be wherever he turned. Fluttering her lashes and making sure to touch him.

Driving him utterly out of his brain with crazy want.

Every night she waited up for him, met him with a cup of tea and talked about his day and shared about hers, usually about what she’d cooked or watched on TV. She was a fan of American reality shows.

As improper and sordid as it sounded, Danny and her, were always made to fuck. It was forged in their DNA, like someone had cut their souls with the same knife, on the very same day, because her jagged, lonely parts fit his exactly, until it was arightnessin his chest.

And though he’d loathed that fact sometimes, there was no getting away from the reality of her siren hips as she swayed them to the music pumping through the radio.

He watched like his eyes were magnetized to her behind.

Mouth dry.

Forehead sprouting sweat.

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